now and forever pt. 2 (self para)
“Hello son.” The words rang out through the room before Elijah had a chance to truly process the fact that his father was standing in the threshold of his hotel room. Eli wasn’t sure was he didn’t expect this. There was nothing in the world more important to Keith Walsh than basketball. The promise of his son winning another state title was far too much to pass up.
“What’re you doing here, dad?” Eli asked. He hadn’t bothered with the pleasantries. Keith had lost the right to small talk when he started beating his son.
“I’m here to see my son win another state title. Let’s go get some food, catch up.” Keith suggested, and that was how Elijah had ended up in his current situation. He’d never been able to say no to his father, no matter how much he hated the other man. Elijah made a point to stop at his coach’s room to tell him that he was leaving the hotel. Luce was there with the coach and Elijah couldn’t make eye contact with him. Luce was well aware of everything that happened in Eli’s family, and Eli knew he couldn’t deal with the hurt in Luce’s eyes, so he chose to avoid it all together.
“I’ll be back in by ten.” He assured his coach, unfortunately meeting Luce’s eyes for a split second before turning around and heading the other way. Elijah shook his head and followed his father blindly out to his car. He didn’t know why he was doing this. He could’ve easily said no and went on with the rest of the night. He could’ve gone down to the pool with Harrison and gotten a good night’s rest before the game. His father wouldn’t be able to do anything in such a public setting. Still, Elijah couldn’t bring himself to defy authority. He’d always wanted to be the best for his father, for his entire family, and that included following instruction. As they made their way out to Keith’s car, Elijah pulled out his phone and texted Harrison. The contact was name was only a single red heart emoji, thankfully, because Keith saw and chose to comment.
“Got a girlfriend here?” Keith asked. Elijah could hear the proudness in his voice and Elijah looked up from his phone, speaking with an insincere smile.
“Yeah. It’s Trish.” He assured him, typing out the words to Harrison ‘Don’t come over tonight. Will explain later, I love you’. It wasn’t until another group of men, clearly fathers from the other team, got into the elevator that Keith expressed his disapproval.
“Put your phone away. It’s rude.” He spoke and Eli simply rolled his eyes, shutting it off and shoving it down deep into his back pocket. While he’d been excited for the weekend only moments before, Elijah suddenly couldn’t wait for it all to be over.
Things seemed to ease up after his dinner with Keith. They’d mainly talked basketball throughout the meal, occasionally dropping comments about his mother or Mirabella. It was all they really had in common. After returning to the hotel, Elijah had insisted that he needed to get sleep before the game tomorrow. It wasn’t a lie — he was exhausted. He quickly parted ways with his father without as much as a hug goodbye. That was how things had to be — that was the way that Keith had made things between them. Arriving back to his room, Elijah flicked on the light switch to find it empty. While he was unsure of where his roommates were, he was positive that he didn’t care enough to find out. He’d always appreciated seclusion, especially the night before a game as big as this one. It’d be the last game of his high school career and win or lose, he was satisfied with himself. He’d already shattered every scoring record in Bridgewood’s history as well as his father’s. Elijah pulled his shirt over his head, letting it fall down to the ground before laying down in his bed. He heard his phone buzz, and knew that it was probably Harrison, but he didn’t bother getting up to check it. Elijah didn’t have the energy to explain to him the situation he’d been put in with his father’s arrival and he didn’t want him to worry. With that thought, Elijah’s eyes gently shut and he dreamt that tomorrow would be a better day.
The next day came in a whirlwind. His coach let the players sleep in, for their own benefit, but Elijah was up by six. He had a strict workout regime that he kept up even on game days. By noon, he was in the middle of an interview with the main station that would be covering the game. The game was being televised by four different stations and there were a number of news vans outside the arena, so naturally, some of his other teammates had to pick up the slack.
“Elijah, how do you plan to pull in another win after leaving your old team behind?” The interviewer asked. Elijah wondered what credentials she had to be asking him about basketball. By the way she shifted uncomfortably in her seat with each question, he could tell that she’d been in an actual arena once, maybe twice. He wasn’t ungrateful for the interview, but he wished that they’d sent someone a little more experienced to make the process less painful for them all.
“The same way I did last year. I really loved my team back home, and I’m still really great friends with all of the guys, but Bridgewood has done an incredible job in welcoming me. My teammates here have become my brothers, and we’ve got a few really nice plays up our sleeves. I’m confident that we’ll go into and come out of this game strong.” There wasn’t much more after that. They finished out a few questions about their rivals, Roosevelt, and if Elijah had any plans to play college ball. He had been contacted by teams all over the nation, but he wasn’t set in stone on anything quite yet. He would have to sign a national letter of intent by May, but there was an incredibly important conversation that he’d have to have with Harrison before anything like that could take place. Of course, he wasn’t about to tell the interviewer that. Elijah simply stayed silent and oblivious, even dodging the question about his relationship status. It was no one’s business but his own.
The game came a lot faster than Elijah had anticipated. He’d caught bits of the 3rd place game, which was rather uneventful. Leaning back against the bleachers as the buzzer rang out indicating that a team had won, Eli wondered how these teams had even come so far. BA would destroy them, and as much as he hated to admit it, so could Roosevelt. The tournament was incredibly well matched, to say the least.
“Eli!” He heard a deep voice call from behind, whipping around to face his father for the second time that weekend. Surprisingly, Elijah wasn’t as effected by Keith’s presence as he had been last night. He was far too focused on the task at hand to care about anything his father said.
“Do well tonight, son. All of the guys back home are watching. Make us proud!” Keith patted Elijah on the back, earning a nod from Eli before the boy retired to the locker room. Eli grinned at Luce, wrapping his arm around the other boy’s shoulders as they huddled up for the last time as a team. Elijah said a few encouraging words, made a crack about Roosevelt, and thanked their coach for the season before the music blared throughout the gym, signaling the start of the game.
There was little to nothing that high schools in California took more seriously in the winter than basketball. They didn’t get much for snow, so they desperately needed something to cling to and make their lives worth living. It was for that exact reason that the entire, professional sized arena was packed head to toe with screaming fans. There was an even spread of Bridgewood maroon and Roosevelt yellow, mainly split down the middle of the arena. As they walked out onto the court, Elijah looked around casually before his eyes landed on Harrison. He didn’t bother trying to fight the smile that came to his lips, making a mental note of where the boy was in the stands for future reference. Elijah found that looking to Harrison during the games gave him strength that he sometimes couldn’t find on his own. Strength he often needed to pull through the game with a win.
“You ready for this?” Elijah asked Luce, his right hand man, with a grin just as Elijah was brought up for tip off. The ball began in Roosevelt’s possession, which was exactly where Bridgewood wanted them. When Elijah said that they’d perfected their plays for the night, he’d truly meant it. He, the coach, and the guys had spent hours after each practice going through old tapes, discovering what did and didn’t work. They had the dream team for the state championship as well as the perfect playbook. They were a shoe in for the title.
As the end of the third quarter came, this thought left Elijah’s mind and he crashed down onto the bench. Roosevelt was up by six, which didn’t seem like much in the grand scheme of things, but that was six more baskets that they’d have to get through in the last quarter. It always came down to the second in these games and every single one of them counted. “Johnson,” Eli began, speaking of the point guard for Roosevelt. “Johnson’s got two left feet, okay? Luce, I want you down below the basket. Fuck the last play, we’re not going that route. Get down below the basket. They’re going to be on you, but I don’t want you to shoot. Pass it back to me and I’m going to break his fucking ankles.” Eli instructed confidently, taking another shot of water before patting his teammate, Brent, on the back. “Let’s fucking do this.” He said.
And they did. Elijah’s off the book play came in handy twice, throwing Roosevelt off of their game and allowing Bridgewood to merge the six point gap. “I fucking love you guys.” Elijah told his teammates with a laugh as they got back down to the other end of the court, completely ignoring the glare he got from the ref for using foul language. Elijah didn’t give a damn what the ref said. In his book, if they weren’t making a call, their traps should be shut. Unfortunately, the amount of time left in the fourth quarter was not enough to get a lead on Roosevelt. The buzzer rang out and Elijah knew that they were going into overtime.
Ten minutes later, there were ten seconds on the clock and Bridgewood was down by two. Eli came up to the three point line, screamed, “Luce!” to get the other boy’s attention and caught the ball. Quickly positioning himself, Elijah let the ball fly past his fingertips towards the net. In the split second that he had to watch the ball go in, Elijah began to celebrate, even before he’d made the shot. Elijah knew that it was going to go in.
“Dad, I don’t want to anymore. I’ve been shooting since I got home from school!” A twelve year old Elijah whined to his father, his arms weak from the three point shots he’d been making all afternoon. He still had homework to complete and knew that he’d be exhausted the next day from staying up late to do it, but he didn’t have much choice in the matter. If Keith wanted him to practice, he would practice.
“I told you: twenty in a row or start over.” Keith told Elijah simply, leaving the court. Elijah just shook his head and made another shot. Feeling guilty, he kept going after he hit the twenty mark. He went to thirty, then forty, then fifty. By the time Elijah reached sixty three point shots in a row and could no longer see the basket in the moonlight, he turned in for the night with his homework forgotten.
Everything after the shot happened in a blur. Confetti fell from the ceiling, fans rushed to the court, and TV crews crowded around him. The familiar feeling of a win coursed through his veins, but an added excitement came along with it. For once, Elijah felt like he knew his place. Elijah had always known what was expected of him. He was supposed to be a great player, a dutiful son, an upstanding member of the community. It was only after the game winning buzzer rang out that Elijah knew that he wouldn’t have to abide by anyone’s rules, especially his father’s. While Keith may have been under the impression that Eli was just a carbon copy of him, Eli knew the truth. He’d gotten to those state finals on his own, and he’d won with the help of his teammates and coach. He’d gotten there with the encouragement from Trish, support from Luce, and love from Harry. Perhaps most important of all, he’d won because of him. Elijah didn’t owe anyone anything. With this exact thought in his mind, Elijah tuned out the camera crews that were pestering him with questions, pushing through the crowd on the court until his eyes finally met Harry’s. With a grin, Elijah wrapped his arms around Harry’s waist and spun him around, bringing one of his large palms up to Harry’s cheek and pulling him in for a swift kiss. “I love you.” He muttered against Harry’s lips, finally feeling completely and utterly whole. Elijah knew that his father was watching, TV crews were filming, and everyone would have questions once the moment was over. The only thing was, Eli couldn’t bring himself to care.
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